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| AshUK |
It's cold. It's so, so cold.
She tries to move, and finds she can't. Her limbs feel heavy, useless.
She opens her eyes, and he's there – looking at her with a smile on his face. Suddenly everything is better.
*************************************************** *********
She remembers meeting him. Crawling from bar to bar on her work Christmas night out. She'd been with her friends, he'd caught her eye, they'd spoken for a while before her friends had dragged her off to the next bar. But not before he'd asked for her number, and she'd given it to him.
He'd been with two women – a willowy blonde, and an exotic looking redhead. They'd all seemed very friendly, which she'd taken as a good sign. He couldn't be fucking them both, surely. So presumably he was one of those men who have lots of female friends. Better that than some blokey sort, she thought to herself.
And he'd been wearing a suit. Mmm, she liked a guy in a suit.
They'd had a few dates – drinks at first, then dinner, and eventually it had become a relationship. She found, to her surprise, that he liked rough sex – he almost threw her off the bed the first time they slept together; leaving her with a few bruises too. But that was ok; she liked that.
It had progressed from there. Alternating escalating brutality in the bedroom with growing closeness outside it. She'd never seen either of the two girls he'd been with that first night again. When she'd asked him about them, he'd brushed her questions aside.
Oh well, she'd thought. Even if he had been seeing them, clearly he wasn't any more. He was all hers now. The thought made her smile.
This last week had been like a dream. There had been something on his mind, she could tell. He'd seemed preoccupied with something, but even more attentive with her than usual. She liked it.
Last night he'd dressed her up. In a new outfit he'd bought for her. It was fabulous. Sheer white stockings, a delicate white basque with silver stars on it, soft white satin gloves, and a beautiful silver headdress, with what looked like diamonds in it. It must have cost him a fortune.
“ Stand by the window, “ he'd said, when she was dressed. “ I want to see you properly. “
She did as he asked; stood with her back to the cold glass, and posed for him shyly. He'd turned off the light, and let the falling snow outside frame her figure in a soft white darkness.
“ My snow queen, “ he'd whispered in her ear, holding her close. “ Just what I need. “
“ Just what you need ? What do you mean ? “ she'd asked him, but he'd just smiled and shook his head; put his finger on her lips. She'd laughed, and tried to pull it down between her legs, so he could feel how wet she was for him.
“ Wait. “ he'd said, and moved over to the doorway, fiddling with something in his pocket.
The gloves. Those damned leather gloves. Why did he always insist on wearing them before they played ? Honestly, it was like an obsession with him.
“ I want you, “ she pouted. “ Come and fuck me, baby. “
He didn't answer her, just came for her out of the dark, his fist already bunched and swinging.
When she'd come round in the morning, she was still wearing the same outfit as before. There was a bloodstain on her white basque though, and one of her stockings was ripped. She remembered him hitting her, over and over, even when she'd begged him to stop. She'd been dizzy with the pain, her head swimming, but when he'd put his hand between her legs, she'd been soaking wet.
He'd fucked her then, bent her over the edge of the bed, and pushed his cock deep into her cunt. She'd felt his leather gloves around her neck, and melted with desire.
He'd been standing in the doorway when she came round, looking at her with an expression of concern on his face. She loved that about him.
“ Are you ok, baby ? “ He'd asked, and helped her to sit up.
“ I'm fine.. “ And in truth, she was. A little sore in places, true, but nothing that wouldn't heal. Her face ached, and her cunt felt delightfully tender from the pounding he'd given it. Sticky too, like she still had his cum in her.
He'd put his hand gently on her cheek. “ A black eye, “ he murmured. “ I wonder if there'll be time. “
“ Time ? “ She was confused. “ Time for what ? “
He'd just smiled, and helped her to sit up. “ I made you dinner. Wait there. “
And so she'd sat on the bed, gingerly checking for bruises, while he'd brought over a tray with food on it. Proper Christmas dinner too – roast turkey, with all the trimmings, followed by Christmas pudding. Even a small glass of wine. She'd still been a bit dizzy, so he'd helped her – cutting her food up nice and small, and lifting the fork to her mouth. It hurt to chew on the right side of her mouth, so he waited patiently while she'd eaten slowly.
It was delicious. “ Thank you, baby, “ she'd said simply, and he'd just smiled.
He sat next to her for a second, holding one of her gloved hands in his own. She could feel the warmth of his body next to her, and already started to feel her cunt getting wet again.
“ Do you love me ? “ He asked suddenly.
“ Of course, “ she replied, quickly. “ You know I do. “
He let out a deep breath. “ I'm glad, baby. Glad you said that. It just makes this....perfect. “
She put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. He was right, it was perfect. Outside the window, the snow was falling again, filling the room with crisp white light. She rested her head against his, and blinked away a small tear.
It was as she'd held him close, preserving the perfect moment with her arms around him, that she'd first felt the drug slipping into her system, slowing her heartbeat, and paralysing her limbs, like the snow settling on the branches of the tree outside the window.
*************************************************** *********
It's cold. So, so cold.
She tries to open her mouth to speak, but her lips won't move. Her breath clouds weakly in front of her face.
It's dark; she has no idea where they are. Some basement, it feels like. She didn't even know this house had a basement. The thought scares her.
He stands close to her, still smiling that damn smile. He reaches out and strokes her cheek. His finger feels so warm on her skin.
“ Don't worry, baby, “ He says. “ Not long now. Just relax, and don't worry. “
She must have looked frightened; he laughs and strokes her cheek again.
“ I have to do this, baby. You said it yourself, it's perfect between us now. But it can't last. It never does. Whereas if I do this.... “ he pauses, and smiles, “ Then that moment is preserved. Perfectly, and forever. You'll never stop loving me, and I'll never stop loving you. Perfect. “
He reaches down, below where she can't see. She tries to move her head, to look down, but nothing happens.
“ The water is filling up now, “ he says, matter-of-factly. “ Won't take more than an hour, I don't think. Don't worry baby, it really is the most painless way to go. Everyone says so. “
He reaches up, wipes a small crystal tear from her face. “ And when it freezes, you'll be mine forever. My perfect Snow Queen. “
She wants to cry, to scream, to plead. But the words never make it past her frozen throat.
He steps back, and fastens a glass cover over her. In its reflection she can see that she's still wearing the outfit from last night. He hasn't even cleaned off the bloodstains.
He's still there, looking at her with a smile of satisfaction on his face. For a second though, the mask slips, and there seems to be something else in his expression: a profound and desolate sense of despair. But as quickly as it appears, it's gone, and there's just that smile again.
As he turns to go, he reaches for what looks like a light switch.
“ Thought you might like some company, “ he murmurs, pressing his face close to the glass between them. “ Goodbye, my love. Sweet dreams. “
And with that, he's gone, leaving just the echo of his footsteps on the stairs.
And then she sees them. Two matching glass cases, just like hers.
The blonde is wearing a dinky little red xmas outfit, with black fishnets, and sparkly red heels. She has a mass of deep red cuts all over her naked chest and stomach.
The redhead is wearing a delicate blue negligee, a tiara, and a pair of white fluffy wings, like you'd get in a fancy dress shop. She looks just like the kind of fairy you'd find on top of a Christmas tree – except that this one has nasty looking burn marks on her cheek, breasts and tops of her thighs.
Both the glass cases were full of water. But the water had turned to ice, covering each girl in a beautiful sheen of crystals, cracked and bright in the basement light, reflecting and preserving their glory for ever. A perfect Christmas tableau, private decorations for a man who wouldn't share, not with anyone...
| 18 Dec 11, 4:25 PM sathya UK(S), 18 mths  |
Mindblowingly chilling, I do enjoy your writing sk x The violets explode inside me when I meet your eyes Then I'm spinning and I'm diving Like a cloud of starlings - Elbow | ||
| 18 Dec 11, 4:42 PM Moonlit_P 5 yrs |
All is back as it should be 
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| 18 Dec 11, 4:46 PM etty_face UK(S), 4 yrs |
That one left me breathless. | ||
| 18 Dec 11, 5:00 PM valleyrose17 UK(BS), 2 yrs |
at last... "Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed" Michael Pritchard | ||
| 18 Dec 11, 5:41 PM HisLittleBitch UK(KA), 3 yrs |
Aw, I've come over all Christmasy now! | ||
| 18 Dec 11, 6:09 PM UnlawfulOrder UK(CR), 4 yrs |
Ash, Ok... tell me why I don't get this? Three mothers never to see their daughter Three fathers too Who knows how many others would be affected by this,,,, One more murderer on the loose, and a shed load of heartache. Yes I know its not real !!!. I think you could write anything and the crowds would applaud. I have said before that you write fiction very well. Do they applaud the content or the style in your view? Or now are you applauded because its you ? Today is an odd day for me, but the admiration of a tale of three murders just doesnt compute, but carry on and I pray that those who applaud never have to deal with the reality. NLK
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| 18 Dec 11, 6:21 PM valleyrose17 UK(BS), 2 yrs |
This? Again? So does that mean we arent allowed to admire any literature which includes murder, rape or indeed anything which doesn't have a happy ending?
"Fear is that little darkroom where negatives are developed" Michael Pritchard | ||
| 18 Dec 11, 6:33 PM Silly_Rabbit UK(BN), 9 mths |
Well I liked it. More senseless slaughter, please. Won't somebody please think of THE CHILDREN?!? Oh, the yoomanity, etc.. x It is art that makes life, makes interest, makes importance, for our consideration and application of these things, and I know of no substitute whatever for the force and beauty of its process. | ||
| 18 Dec 11, 6:37 PM inappropriate  UK(CF), 3 yrs |
I love the concept. | ||
| 18 Dec 11, 7:01 PM Moonlit_P 5 yrs |
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